What Brambles Want

You want to make me hate you,
Want to make me wait. You
Want to lacerate. Who'd
Underestimate you?

Berry: brood of pools, all
Spurting juice that cools all
August days. Who drools? All
Of us thirsty fools, doll.

Holleringly sweet-tart,
Sudden as a fleet dart.
Merrily, we eat art
By eating you, sweetheart.

But these dark gems tease us
On barbed boughs that seize us,
Stab our hands and knees as
Nails piercéd poor Jesus.

What washes my lips
After your saber rips
me: Nectar sharp as whips?
Or blood? Each, crimson, drips.

Bobbing in your vicious
Bed of nails, delicious
Bramble: Yes, you wish us
Distant, like Mauritius.

 

Illustration by Anneli Rufus.

This post was published on the now-closed HuffPost Contributor platform. Contributors control their own work and posted freely to our site. If you need to flag this entry as abusive, send us an email.
CONVERSATIONS